


the first ever annual new texas chess tournament

by ratbrain



Category: The Mechanisms (Band)
Genre: Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, Panic Attacks
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-19
Updated: 2020-11-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:41
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,315
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27625837
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ratbrain/pseuds/ratbrain
Summary: Jonny recounts the story of his first chess tournament to Tim, which results in some negative reactions.
Relationships: Jonny d'Ville/Gunpowder Tim
Comments: 4
Kudos: 61





	the first ever annual new texas chess tournament

**Author's Note:**

> because I am obsessed with my headcanon that Jonny is an amazing chess player 
> 
> content warnings!!  
> \- verbal/implied physical abuse  
> \- brief parental abandonment  
> \- descriptions of a panic attack  
> \- use of homophobic slurs

Jonny put on his glasses and looked at himself in the mirror. Why did they have to look so stupid? Everyone already thought low enough of him to start with, and these just made it so much worse. 

It had started with the stupid migraines. He’d be outside doing target practice just like normal and then his head would start hurting. He could ignore it for a little while before it would get to the point where even the light would begin to hurt, let alone the loud shot of a pistol. He thought it could be anything else other than his vision. He’d down so much water and take so many pain meds that if not immortal his liver would probably be fucked by now. 

He’d want more than anything to go inside and lie down, but when dad had his friends over and he could practically hear him from outside it was better to stay out. Sometimes he’d go into the old barn that dad used for storage and find a place there. It was hot as hell and smelled like mold, but it was better than the sun beating down on you. 

One time he’d actually gotten so lightheaded that he nearly passed out there. He was overcome with such a sudden sense of dizziness that he tried to put his hands out to steady himself and ended up falling flat on his ass. He was there for a few minutes when the barn doors swung open, and he had to bring up his arm to shield against the sudden brightness. 

“What’s this Billy?” One of dad's friends, he could never remember who they all looked the same, teased. “What’s wrong with him?”

“Probably drank too much” another said, walking over and shaking his shoulder, which hurt like hell but Jonny refused to show it. 

“Were you drinking my shit Jonny?!” His dad demanded, screaming right in his ears and sending waves of pain through his skull. However much it hurt him to do it, he shook his head no violently. 

“Hey Billy lay off the kid, probably just can’t hold his liquor” The first one said, picking him up under his arms and starting to drag him back to the house. By that point Jonny was in too much pain to even consider doing anything, and simply let his head fall limply back and get dragged back inside, where the cool air felt like a blessing. 

“I wouldn’t be surprised. Kids kind of a faggot so makes sense he can’t hold his liquor.”

They laughed as Jonny was tossed onto his bed. Jonny pulled the covers up way over his head and squeezed his eyes shut and prayed to whoever the fuck was listening that this went away soon. 

It was after that incident that he decided he needed to see a doctor. He didn’t have a lot of money, as the only professions on New Texas that actually got you any were gambler or store owner. But he hoped it would be enough as he set out on his bike. 

And now he had fucking glasses. 

The worst part was that they worked. At least if they didn’t help he could say that it was a useless waste of time and move on. But they did make the headaches go away. But of course this brought about a whole new set of problems. 

“What the fuck are those?” his dad said when Jonny walked into the living room wearing them for the first time. He knew eventually dad would see him in them, but he was at least trying to put it off as long as possible. 

“Um, glasses.” he answered, hating how his voice faltered when he answered. Why did it always do that? It made him sound stupid and childish, as did these stupid fucking glasses. 

“Where the hell did you get glasses?” he asked. 

“Doctor said I need them.” Jonny said quietly. 

“Where the hell did you get money for glasses?”

“I, uh, I-”

“What do you think your old man’s not good enough for you? That I can’t support you so you have to go out and get your own fucking glasses?!” He said, rising to his feet. 

“No! No of course not!” Jonny said, shrinking back against the wall as his dad moved closer. 

But either his dad was tired or just didn’t want to deal with him, because he stopped and sat back down. “Fuckin’ better not.” he mumbled. 

Well, if Jonny was going to get killed it might as well be now. He threw caution to the wind as he said “I’m going to go into town.” 

“For what?”

“There’s a, um-” fuck, why hadn’t he thought of a proper lie before? It was the Jonny Vangelesis number one rule of lying: prepare your shit beforehand. He was left with nothing but the truth: “A chess tournament.”

At that his dad threw his head back and began a sickly laugh. 

“A chess tournament? Boy I don’t know whose you are but you aint no Vangelesis boy I’ll tell you that. Fuckin chess tournament.”

“Yeah, well, I’m gonna go do that.” Jonny said, slipping out the front door before he could hear any more insults from his dad, because he was sure there were more. There was always more. He grabbed his rusty bike from the side of the house and set off down the dirt road that led into town. 

How in the hell New Texas had a chess tournament, no one was really sure. It wasn’t exactly much of a gambling game, and the only people who ever played it were old men who sat on their front porches all day long and drank brown liquor and smoked endless cigarettes. But still under the awning of Cactus Parlor sat a few tables with chess boards on them. Considering it was Cactus Parlor running the ordeal there was definitely a gambling deal going on, but what exactly it consisted of Jonny wasn’t sure and didn’t really care. This thought was solidified when he saw the men in suits standing behind the few players who sat at the boards. 

There was a cash prize. Only $100, but still better than nothing. Jonny didn’t really care about that, though. He just wanted to play. 

Jonny had learned to play chess back when his mom was still around. She’d taught him how to play before apparently deciding he wasn’t a good enough reason to stick around and heading off. She at least left him her chess set though, which she told him was her fathers before hers. Not that Jonny cared much for the sentimental aspect of it, growing up with some absent parents will do that to you, but it was cool to know he at least owned something that old. He was also glad he remembered the rules she’d taught him, and he would sometimes sit on the floor of his room and play against himself, flipping the board around to alternate turns. 

He parked his bike, taking a second to take his glasses off and wipe the red dust that had accumulated on the lenses onto his shirt. Stupid glasses and stupid red dirt. 

“That’s Billy Vangelesis’ boy.” someone said as he walked up the stairs onto the porch and he sighed. The perks of having a deadbeat dad, everyone knows you have a deadbeat dad whether you want them to or not. 

“What the hells he doing here?” Someone else said. 

“I’m going to play chess.” he said calmly, picking a seat and sliding into it. 

The competition was long and by the time the sun was setting in front of them Jonny was gross with sweat. He’d played five different people, but each of them had lost to him. Now he was down to the last competitor, and if he could beat him he would win the tournament. 

“I’ll admit,” said the man, Smokey he’d said his name was. “I thought you Vangelesis boys were all good for nothing stupid as shit trash. But you play a good game here boy.” he said, moving one of his pieces. His voice sounded old and crusty, like he’d truly earned that nickname. 

“But who knows,” he continued, “Maybe you’ll be the one to break that cycle. Say, if you win how's about you come and work for me and the boys? We could use someone as smart as you on our side, and especially someone so young.” he looked back at the “boys”, who nodded in silent agreement. 

“Thanks, but first of all fuck you. Second,” Jonny said, moving the pieces around on the board, “You just lost your king to a pawn. That’s checkmate.” 

Smokey laughed, and it was a wet disgusting noise. Jonny was almost worried he’d throw up on the table when he spoke again. “You’ve got a smart mouth kid, I like that. So why don’t you come work for us now?”

“Thanks, but I’d rather not. I wanna get off this shitrock, and I don’t need myself dying before I can even come close. Now I won fair and square."

“So you did, son, so you did. Lurch, pay the man!” he said, turning around to one of the men behind him, who produced a bill out of his pocket and handed it to Jonny. 

Riding his bike home that day Jonny felt absolutely ecstatic. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt this happy, as the dirt kicked up in a solid trail behind him he lifted up his face to feel the last of the early evening sunshine on his face and the now cool wind blow through his hair which he’d just started to grow out. Dad said it made him look like “some hippie fag” but he liked it. 

“So what’d you end up doing with the money?” Tim asked. They had been laying together in bed while Jonny recounted the story of his first chess tournament. Ever since Tim gifted him a completely legally acquired chess board Jonny had been a lot more open to telling stories about his early childhood. Not all were as happy as this one, but Tim never minded that. Tim was incredibly patient. If Jonny started crying through a story or needed to stop because he realized it was going somewhere he didn’t want to recall, Tim never minded. He would simply hold Jonny close and press sweet and gentle kisses into his hair and tell him that it was alright, and he could talk whenever he felt comfortable. 

“I think I gave it to my dad," Jonny said. 

“What? Why would you do that?”

“That was still in my phase of ‘maybe if I do enough nice shit he’ll like me and stop being a dick’. I got over that pretty quickly, and by the time I was winning the same tournament next year I kept it for myself. Not entirely sure what I did with it though.” 

“Probably something reckless.”

“Probably” Jonny laughed. 

There was a brief moment of silence before Jonny spoke again. “You know what I just don’t get?”

“What’s that?”

“Why he forgave me when I killed him.”

Tim went silent. Jonny had told him that story before, although not in much detail. That and the fact that he’d written a song about it was pretty much all he knew. Actually up until now Tim hadn’t been entirely sure whether he’d actually said that or if it was just a really good set of rhyming words. 

“Like, was it because he knew he’d been a piece of shit up until then and he was trying to apologize?” Jonny said, beggining to lightly pace around the room as he spoke. “Why would he wait? Do you think if I hadn’t killed him he would have apologized? What if I ruined the one shot I had at a good relationship with my father and oh god.”

At that Tim sprung into action. He gently took Jonny’s hands in his and looked up at him “Jonny? Honey can you look at me?”

Jonny was beginning to hyperventilate, but looked up at Tim anyways. His eyes were frantic as they tried desperately to keep him grounded. 

“Good, good job baby. Okay now breathe with me, nice and slow, that’s it,” Tim said, taking exaggerated deep breaths so Jonny could follow. His attempts were shaky, but definitely better than the frantic mess they had been before. 

“Good, Jonny, you’re doing so good. Just keep breathing, alright angel?”

Jonny nodded and kept his eyes on Tim as he took in more deep breaths. When his breathing was fairly normal again Tim led him over to the bed and sat him down. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“Can’t” Jonny said, “Too many” he gestured wildly around his head while he searched for the word he was thinking of, “thoughts”

Tim leaned forward and gently kissed Jonny’s forehead and cradled his head in his hands, which Jonny leaned into happily. “That’s alright love. Talk when you feel ready. In the meantime, would you like to play chess?”

Jonny nodded happily and began to set up the board. Tim had learned that chess was apparently a great way to calm Jonny down. It was probably the strategizing aspect that pulled him out of whatever mental block he was in so that he could focus on something else. It also just made him incredibly smiley whenever he could point out a bad move Tim had made or whenever he knew he was going to win. 

He also learned that either he was terrible at chess, or Jonny was way better than he gave himself credit for. Jonny was currently the undefeated chess champion out of 28 games, and Tim doubted that his undefeated status was going to change any time soon.

**Author's Note:**

> fuck it Jonny is an amazing chess player because I said so, and he deserves to be comforted because I also said so


End file.
